


The Man and Woman of Keramzin

by zemenipearls (kaiipaii)



Category: The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: F/M, Ficlet, Fluff, Malina - Freeform, Post canon, Sentimental, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-23 14:27:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20009794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaiipaii/pseuds/zemenipearls
Summary: A ficlet at the request of a tumblr user, but unfortunately I can't find the ask anymore so I'm posting and hope you see it!Some loose flowing thoughts about Mal and Alina in Keramzin post-war.





	The Man and Woman of Keramzin

Although the house was still in good standing, they needed some renovations. 

There were too many memories and ghosts, so the two of them set about filling the house with new memories, and reliving the old ones. Mal got stuck in their old hiding place, and they ripped out part of the wall getting him out. 

"We can probably fix that," he said. But Alina didn't mind. They found new house keepers, new teachers. Came up with curriculum for the children. Keramzin held all the good memories of their childhood and now, with the rest of their life ahead of them, wanted to bring a safe life to other children. 

Alina remembered the pain of when Duke Keramsov didn't recognize her at the Palace in Os Alta. She remembered the vague humming as lullabies. So the two set about learning not just the names, but who all the children were.

“Alina, you’re being a little intense,” he interrupted one day as she stared at the kids eating breakfast, silently mouthing their names to herself. She was determined to remember them. All the ones who passed through her care. She blinked, becoming aware, and then smiled. 

Sometimes, she wondered what life would have been like in Os Alta. But she couldn’t see herself in that setting - that belonged to Sankta Alina, to the Sun Summoner, to the woman who was going crazy with power. This was home - this was who she was, and more importantly, who she wanted to be. His hair was longer, shaggy and small waves forming around his brow. His skin was a deep bronze now, and it made his eyes all the more arresting. It distracted people from the sadness in them, when he thought no one was looking.

But his smile lit up, when the children played with them. Even when they complained about their lessons, or got into scuffles as children do. Even when they vomit from eating too many plums and left purple streaks down the hallway, Mal took care of them with ease. Comforted them. It was the family they wanted, that they needed. 

The border orphans had, in turn, become parents to the orphans of the Darkling’s reckless campaign. 

The money flowing from the throne made sure everything was in tip top shape, but they were careful not to make anything too grand. It was a home, not a place to display the orphans. 

The nightmares Alina had on the route to Novyi Zem meant Mal knew how to comfort the crying kids at night. Alina wondered if that should make her jealous, but it never did. Mal had so much love burning in him, so much care. So when they missed their parents, or were haunted by monsters no one else could see, Alina and Mal were there to kiss their tears away and hold them close. Alina would crawl into the small bed and whisper all the ways she could slay the monsters. Sometimes, she even told them stories about the real monsters she slayed. But they didn’t know that. It was a silly story, and soon they could rest.

When the children didn’t need them, Mal and Alina would pack a basket and go to their meadow. It was different than she remembered, no longer shaded by childhood wishfulness. But it was still beautiful. Sometimes they would talk about the children, the building. Sometimes they would talk about the past, about their own nightmares and worries. They didn’t hide anything from each other anymore - both of their souls were laid bare to each other.

Most of the time, they lay with their backs on the grass and stared at the clouds, talking about everything or nothing. The silence was comfortable. Sometimes she could feel Mal listening to the earth - waiting for the trees and rocks to speak to him. The same way a part of her begged for the light to bend to her will. But at the same time - she was relieved. 

Despite what the sun had given her, it had taken so much. It had taken nearly everything. There was no more fear, no more desperation, no more expectations of an entire country resting on her too-small shoulders. The power that consumed her had never been worth losing herself. Mal was her sunshine, and he was the person he always wanted to come back to. As long as he could find her, that was home. He didn’t want for anything else. And he filled every waking moment with light and love.


End file.
